The Red Damnables
Contract 42-Clearing Garrond Cross Mines
Time passed quickly for Areli while he meditated on the side of a hill on the very edge of the Central Mountains. Between the wind and the gentle shade, Areli could feel his core temperature begin to even out, much to his relief. He kept calm and focussed on dispersing magic through his body.
None of the others had disturbed him while he worked, which was a small mercy that gave him enough focus to cast the magic he needed. He breathed in to take in a lungful of cool mountain air and focussed on his talisman. The talisman held a deep well of magic that he’d filled prior to their contract. He drew a small stream of magic out from the talisman and guided it through his body. He prioritised the heart and lungs, then the brain, then back down his spine to his other vital organs. Only after finishing that path, did he bring the magic through his arms, legs, and tail.
Cooling down one’s body temperature with magic was all part and parcel of being an oruk, but it was also a stark reminder of how shit of an oruk he was in many ways.
Being a magic species was an important part of who oruks were and Areli had grown up knowing that his magic reserves were shit. He’d grown up rough and he’d had to struggle to get by nearly all his life, struggling hard enough that learning magic was at the bottom of his list of priorities.
Growing up rough had made him scrappy and resourceful, traits he’d come to appreciate. He’d learnt to keep his mouth shut and watch instead of talk like all the Weidenfolk.
And he’d learnt that even if he was shit at something, if he was patient and smart, he could still succeed despite everything.
He drew in another deep breath and concentrated on the coolness. With every breath, he imagined himself drawing the cold energy out of the stone, breaking the energy into mana, and then letting the coolness slowly seep through his body to disperse cool energy through him. Like streams of cool water running on a track he’d set in his body.
Magic was a gift from Poi Dun. It was woven in the very soul of the oruk folk when she had first created them. The oruk elders would teach drawing magic at the hatcheries and Areli’s teachers swore every oruk could draw magic through the heart if they worked hard enough. Then they’d turned on him when he’d struggled. And when he hit teenage years, they’d thrown him out of the hatchery as quickly as they could.
Areli steadied his breathing and concentrated on the magic instead. He needed to avoid strong emotions. He needed to concentrate on the energy moving through him and not Elayne sitting several metres away and watching him like a hawk. She could have chosen to do something productive but since he’d mentioned he was overheating to the group, she’d stuck like glue and wouldn’t give him space. She could’ve been setting up camp, or making a fire, or doing whatever Harlea and Fiona had decided to do in the last remaining hours of the day.
Areli took another breath and squeezed his eyelids tight. Cool goes in, heat goes out. Areli felt himself slip into quiet and he forced himself to hover in the serenity for as long as he could. He focussed on the pattern he’d made and slowly felt more like himself and less like a chicken slowly baking in an oven.
When he finally opened his eyes again, he was surprised to see how dusk had come to dominate the sky above him. The heat of the day was nowhere near as unbearable without the sun’s direct gaze, and now he was cool again, he realised just how tired he was.
Elayne was lying with her back on the closest tree to him, feigning sleep with a book sitting open in her lap.
She was a short, angry looking woman with a round human-y face. She was wide too, big enough to hold her own against the men. Areli liked that about her; she took no bullshit.
She’d joined them several months ago and even with her grating youthful enthusiasm, she was sharper than she let on. She’d been a bodyguard before she’d joined them and it was clear to Areli that she wasn’t some easy mark. She shielded well in battle and had the killer instinct hiding just below her bubbly surface.
“You could’ve picked any other tree to sit at. You know that, right?” Areli remarked pithily.
“But then we wouldn’t get to spend time together though, Areli.” She opened her eyes up and smiled innocently.
Areli sat up and let out a long final breath of hot air. He loved how it felt when his body was perfectly in tune.
“Any idea where the others are?” Areli asked as he dragged himself back up onto his feet. He couldn’t see them along the ridgeline nor near their gear as it sat still packed in the campsite.
Elayne closed her eyes and leant back on the tree with a content smile, “I think they’ve gone a bit over the way.”
Areli looked back down the hill and couldn’t see any sign of them. If they had gone back down the hill, they were welcome to hike all the way back up without him.
Areli moved towards the ridgeline and felt his legs come alive again as they began to slowly come back to life.
As he came up to the top of the ridge, he watched the land past the mountain come into view. A vast ocean of incandescent green stretched out underneath him and reminded him of just how small he was. He moved up to the very edge of the cliff and scanned the peaks of the Central Mountains that were only a few days of hiking away. They’d dominated the horizons for many years as he lived and worked in southern Weidenland. Seeing them up close on the top of one of the foothills of the Valleys was something Areli was never quite prepared for. The peaks rose up into the clouds and he scanned to see if he could spot any Mahenian outposts that pocketed the giant mountains.
He could make out some detail on the sides of the mountains but the Mahenians were experts in camouflaging their outposts and Areli had no clue where to look. He had no idea if there were any underland border towns in their general region.
Areli’s gaze swept back to the cliff he stood on and over to a small path that worked its way up from the jungle sitting at the base of the hill. The path ran alongside the edge of the cliff up to a small mine that sat in the last rays of the afternoon sun. Several small figures wandered the mine’s outside compound. Figures that were too small to be human or oruk.
Areli looked up to look at the jungle beneath him. Hidden somewhere in the verdure was the town they were travelling to, the town of Garrond Cross.
Areli’s eyes drifted to the horizons of the south, where the jungles stretched out to meet the sky and pushed far out to the south oceans thousands of kilometres away. Every tree under the jungle’s canopy was his homeland, The Theocracy of Karitia. So it had been deemed in the Golden Age.
Regardless of the aching deep in his chest, the sun setting over the western hills of Coia was an incredible view. When the Valleys were once the homes of his folk, Areli’s great grandparents had been shamans in a village in a nameless valley somewhere near where he stood.
His grandmother, Mo’ili, had told him their folk spat on the evils caused by the Schlupunt folk who stole their lands hundreds of years ago. She cursed them a thousand times and Areli assumed she’d have cursed the new nation of Weidenland a thousand times more if she were still alive.
Areli hadn’t ever had the heart to tell her that he didn’t care for her hatred for every ghost she’d called up from her past. When she railed about the injustices brought on his folk in the hatchery, Areli had been far more concerned about surviving his hatchmates than any of her woes.
A falcon called above Areli as it climbed an updraft nearby and swooped back down to check the many cracks and ledges of the cliffside. Areli closed his eyes to the rapidly fading light and recited a prayer to farewell the sun on its nightly journey.
The quiet droll of a nearby conversation filtered on the air around him. He caught the familiar scents of Harlea and Fiona from somewhere nearby mixed with human scents he didn’t know.
Strangers.
Areli’s head swivelled from side to side until he spotted his two friends only a few hundred metres away. They stood on a small ledge that jutted out from the cliffside and were talking with two humans that Areli didn’t recognise.
Areli frowned. After years of adventuring, fighting, and even a few years of war, Harlea and Fiona still had no respect for their own safety. They both stood only a few steps away from the very edge of the ledge and were in the middle of a heated altercation with one of the strangers looking like they were yelling at them.
“Is that them over there?” Elayne asked, appearing suddenly at Areli’s side.
Areli damn near jumped out of his scales. He leapt across two steps and danced on the very edge of the cliffside. He swung his arms in the air and propelled himself back and into a bush that had set its roots right on the edge. Areli took a few more steps to ensure he was well and truly safe before he turned to Elayne, “Holy Sands! You can’t surprise me like that!”
“Sorry, I just assumed you knew I was here,” Elayne apologised, openly perplexed.
“Unbelievable.” Areli stepped past Elayne, only stopping to check she had her sword on her waist, “C’mon, let’s go find out what’s happening.”
“Sounds good. Is there trouble?” Elayne followed close to him and unclasped the buckle of her scabbard.
“No sword.” He warned, “It is probably fine.”
Out on the ledge, Harlea was saying something to the two people while Areli and Elayne closed the distance. The situation looked tense but the two strangers didn’t look dangerous in more favourable circumstances.
Areli couldn’t see any weapons on the two strangers nor were either of the two people any considerable size. The front person was a thin, rakish woman with a long neck and no meat on her bones. She was skinny but tall, being a good head taller than Harlea and a face that looked perpetually pissed off.
Her companion was a short stumpy man with a nervous countenance about him. He stood heavily on his legs, with his stomach filling his shirt and spilling over the side of his tight trousers. The clothes were of a reasonable make and he wore a toupee that was holding onto the top of his head with admirable tenacity. He waited with his arms crossed and hovered at the edge of the conversation nervously.
It didn’t matter what either of them looked like, really. All it would take would be two steps for either of them to push Harlea and Fiona off.
The ridgeline blurred under Areli’s feet as he sprinted along the narrow path towards them.
As he approached, Areli started to pick up Harlea’s booming voice echoing off the cliffside, “----- contract, gnolls are no fucking joke.”
Areli kept his pace steady but he was slightly relieved. Of all the arguments they could be having, he was glad it was something about their contract. They’d been called to Garrond Cross to clear a nest of gnolls that had set up in their mine and, with any luck, it was a meeting with the folks who had asked them to come down south.
Areli couldn’t make out what the woman had said but Fiona’s voice carried over to him easily, “We have the contract in our packs, you knew to expect us.”
Areli slowed to a stop ten metres out from the fat little man.
Harlea looked annoyed more than nervous with the whole interaction. He was a step away from the woman and he was unbelievably, obtusely flat-footed.
Areli felt for one of his throwing knives. If she made a move on Harlea, there was nothing that he had that was quick enough to stop her. But Areli would make sure it was the last decision she’d ever make.
On her hip, she carried a dagger in her belt and her hiking boots looked big enough to carry knives if she wanted to. Better that Areli aimed for her neck than her arm or leg. He could hit the mark, he was confident.
Areli slowed down to a crawl and cautiously snuck across to the right side of the man. Elayne was close and grabbed at his shirt. Areli looked back and she gestured for Areli to make space for her. She pointed for him to rotate to the other side of the ledge, like he was already doing.
“Ah ah,” Harlea stopped Areli and the three others turned to look at him. The man gasped when he noticed Areli and he reached down to the belt at his waist.
“It’s all quite alright, Areli,” Harlea spoke calmly, “just some last minute negotiations.”
“Negotiations?” The lady questioned with her voice peaking, “We’ll not be paying! That fucking Hiford official told us we’d have the mine back weeks ago. It's their Good Gods’ forsaken mine but they expect us to run it, maintain it, and then foot the bill when it gets overrun by the shitting gnolls that we’ve been warning about for years.”
All eyes went back to the lady and Areli crept another step further to hover next to the man. If anything went wrong, the fat man was going over the edge first.
Harlea raised his hands deferentially, “Trust me, Ellette, the number of stories I could tell you of incompetent House officials and the fuck ups they’ve caused, we’d be here until solstice. I have no doubt they ignored your requests until it was too late. And that they’ve been less help than tits on a bull when it comes to running the mines.”
Harlea paused to let her yell at him again but she said nothing. Harlea glanced back at Fiona and then continued, “And I can promise you that them taking everything and giving you nothing is typical House behaviour. But at the end of the day, I am on contract and the contract says we get paid half once we reach Garrond Cross and half upon inspection by the mayor of Garrond Cross, a one Ellette Deviolle.” Harlea turned his hand out towards her.
Ellette scrunched her face and breathed hard through her nostrils, “And you were late.”
“And we’re incredibly sorry to keep you waiting.” Harlea responded immediately.
She glowered at Harlea, turned to stare at Areli and the little man. Areli said nothing and the man next to him just spluttered to life, “Well, uh, help is few and, well, far for us. Would you know.”
Ellette let out a hum of disapproval before she turned back to Harlea, “Even if I was happy to pay for the House’s mistake, I can’t find the gold that covers half your charge. The trade routes to Karitia have been closed by the Queen and that mine you have been tasked to clear is our only other source of income,”
Areli felt a pang of empathy for her. It was a harsh reality of the outer provinces at the moment. The Northern War had strained the kingdom for two decades and drained its folk of all of their food, money, and young in every province.
From what Areli had seen since returning, very little of anything had made its way back south and had left much of the towns and villages in a far worse way than ten years ago.
“Areli, first off, I am going to need you to take five steps back. You are stressing me out, man,” Harlea ordered casually.
Areli moved back exactly five steps, stood up and tried to look as non-chalant as he could.
Harlea smiled, then continued, “Thank you. Now, what do we think, everyone? Do we trust that a glowing recommendation of our work from Ellette will get House Hiford to cough up our money when we get home?”
Classic Harlea. Areli didn’t have an opinion. He hadn’t joined the Red Damnables to make these sorts of god damn decisions.
“How many gnolls are down there?” Elayne responded interestedly, “Four people is not many to clear if there are more than a dozen of them.”
“That is an excellent point.” Harlea scratched his beard in thought, “Think any of your people would be willing to join us tomorrow? Seems only right for your folk to get some skin in the game, Ellette.”
If Areli thought the ledge was tense before, Harlea’s request hung almost palpably in the air around them. The fat man went white as a sheet at the suggestion. Ellette’s face was a sharp contrast, having gone a violent deep red.
Through gritted teeth, Ellette spat her response, “We’ve lost sixteen miners already because of those lazy, good-for-nothing, inbred House Families so why not? Why don’t I ask my people to hop up here good and early in the morning tomorrow so they can run off down the mines to join their dead friends and family to do your Gods’ damned job?”
Areli readied himself. If she was going to do anything, it would be now. He’d probably not be able to save the other two but there would be swift vengeance as recompense.
Harlea’s eyes betrayed Areli’s thoughts and Ellette spun around to face him. Her hand twitched at her side and her eye twitched. A second after, she coolly pushed her way past to get back to the ridge trail.
“Glen.” Ellette tersely concluded with a snap of her fingers and stormed away.
Glen, her associate, stood awkwardly for a second before nodding to Harlea and departing promptly to catch up.
“Feels a bit treasonous, bad-mouthing the House like that,” Fiona noted unphased as she stretched and stood up. She yawned and touched Harlea on the shoulder and delicately stepped past him, “Time to put up posts for me, I think.”
“Yeah, long trip, let’s get settled in and see what tomorrow morning brings.” Harlea agreed and walked back past Areli with a mischievous wink.
Fiona sat on the same ledge as the day before. She’d had nightmares about falling from a great height all night and she had woken up with a single conclusion: The ledge was not a safe place to sit.
Her conclusion was based on a fear that would hold her back if she let it. The same anxiety that had hampered her steps when she was young and the same fear she’d not be held down by now.
As proof, the very same ledge felt almost tranquil in the morning light. The steam from her coffee rose lazily through the cold mountain air and the Valleys stretched out below her majestically. She swirled the spoon in her mug and closed her eyes for just a moment to remember the moment.
When Fiona was young, her parents had told her of the Valleys below her. The Valley of Shadows. She’d been warned of the lost merchant families of old who would haunt the jungle’s canopies and thick shadowy foliage. The ghosts who hid in the shadows and would steal her away if she wandered.
When she became older and stopped fearing the idea of shadowy spectres, she’d been warned of the brigands of the Valleys’ mountains. Horrid men of low birth who would look for the carriages of the rich to steal away women forever. She’d only been allowed to travel out of the city when it was absolutely necessary because her parents knew folk who knew folk who had died.
Now Fiona was an old lady and she’d been in The Valleys more times than she could count. She knew better than most about the dangers beneath the jungle canopies and the horrors that existed in the darkest spots of the Valleys. She’d fought the ghosts in their ruins, witnessed starving bandits and served them their fitting ends, and seen things that would have had her mother blanch and her father feint.
Her family had faded away from her and she had learnt one important lesson to sustain her. That fear couldn’t stop her.
Her gaze slowly returned to the small mining compound that sat below her. Its buildings hugged the side of the cliff face and sat in a long shadow in the dawnlight, obscured from the sun still. The compound was nothing special, with two long houses and a cart platform in the middle. The Hifords must have put some coin into it to set it up so high in the mountains but, by the sounds of what Ellette had said, they’d let it go into disrepair. For defenses, the compound had a palisade wall that stretched from one side of the cliff to circle the edge of the ledge and then connect to the other side of the cliff. The mine sat on a ledge that was situated in a natural bend in the cliffside, which afforded the compound even more protection. There was only one gate to go in and out of the compound and the palisade looked sturdy with a watch tower sitting in the middle of the palisade and looking out over the edge of the ledge. Much to Fiona’s disappointment, the defenses still looked intact despite the mine being overrun by the gnolls.
The miners must not have fought for the compound, or perhaps had no sentries on the tower when the gnolls attacked.
A mistake that the gnolls hadn’t made from what Fiona could see. Just like the night before, there were several gnolls loitering in the mine’s courtyard with one of them frequently on the watchtower.
The gnolls were a lower species but they were completely devoid of intellect. Since she’d moved out onto the ledge again, she had watched a slow trickle of gnolls come out of the mine’s entrance to sit in what little light that managed to work its way to the compound.
She would have loved to ask them how they had known to have guards. And how they’d known to use the watchtower. Understanding how they had decided who would sit outside at night while the others slept would have been fascinating. If she could figure out how to bridge the communication gap between humans and species like them.
Fiona sighed and scrunched up her nose at the sad truth of her staggered research. She wouldn’t get to know, not this time.
She had more pressing matters to attend to anyway. Like the fact she was struggling to get her morning coffee down. She knew the Red Damnable way wasn’t one of meticulous plans nor regimented thinking, but the morning had been hectic and their plan had been a rushed mess.
She’d woken up to the news of their three volunteers from Garrond Cross. Three was more than they’d normally get but having a few extra bodies was fine, if not slightly inconvenient. Contrary to what most folk thought, having extra people join them added to the risk in many ways. Fiona would need to keep an eye on the three of them to make sure they made it back ok.
Or do what she could for two out of three of them. She felt her stomach knot at the idea and forced herself to have a sip of her coffee.
Two out of the three were going into the mine with them and she’d be able to keep them in check just fine. They listened when they needed and understood they needed to be the rearguard and let the Red Damnables handle the front fighting.
The other volunteer was an obnoxious little shit. A snot-nosed teen with his very own stolen sword and haggard shield and no clue when to shut up.
Fiona swallowed the bitter taste in her mouth and placed the cup down. In the years that she and Harlea had been Damnables, they’d had quite a number of dumb plans. But none so poorly thought out nor dangerous as the plan the kid had brought to their planning session.
Fiona picked up her coffee again and forced herself to have another sip of coffee. She was meant to not be stressing about the contracting anymore. She was meant to be letting Harlea handle the administration while she focussed on her research. And she was meant to be enjoying her coffee.
“Shit.” she sighed. She’d forgotten to take her research notes out. Again. Her notebook was buried somewhere in her pack in the hopes she’d thumb through her notes when she had downtime but they’d remained unread the entire trip so far.
On the way home, she’d have them out with her while she walked and she could ponder in peace. Or perhaps when she returned home, she could set up for a day with no interruptions and get to work properly.
Fiona pressed her right temple with the palm of her hand and closed her eyes. The poor sleep was going to catch up with her by the end of the day. She was sure of it and she just knew it was going to be a long day. She took a deep breath and opened her eyes again.
The compound wasn’t particularly big but there was only one path that led up to the cramped plateau that they’d built the compound on. With only one gate to access and only a few trees and other spots they could hide when they approached, Fiona didn’t like their chances to make it to the gates unnoticed.
When they went to move up the path, the sentries would have ample opportunity to spot them out and then they’d be met with a pack of gnolls on walls.
Which meant they needed the kid’s distraction, as loathsome as it was to admit it.
“To hells with this adventuring bullshit,” Fiona whispered to herself. Working contracts was fraught with danger and, with Harlea at the helm, they never fucking ended.
The money was great but if she never got to do what she wanted, then it wasn’t worth it. That and she was always, always out in the middle of nowhere.
She picked up her coffee again, looked into it and placed it back down. She had the equipment she needed and enough to survive for a good year after everything was said and done. She could stop any time she wanted but here she was again, voluntarily living life on the edge.
“Sneaking up to the compound won’t be easy. Not with so few trees on the path.” Fiona stated matter of factly. She didn’t turn to see Harlea walking quietly up to her. She didn’t need to.
Harlea’s voice came from close by, with what Fiona suspected was a twinge of frustration, “Brave to be sitting back on the ledge, no?”
“Brave to try and sneak up on someone on a ledge like this.” Fiona turned to look at Harlea mid-sneak; he was truly terrible at stealth.
Harlea stepped over towards her and leant over to look down below them.
He let out a whistle and looked out over the valley below them.
She didn’t hurry him. She’d learnt that there was no sense in rushing him when he was musing.
Sitting and chatting together was common for the two of them when they were on contracts. She liked to think that their shared love of tense pointless small talk had galvanised them from the first time she’d joined the Damnable crew.
Harlea’s eyes slowly scanned the encampment below them and his mouth silently moved. The bruising around his eyes had darkened over night and she was confident that his nose was dislocated if not broken.
Seeing Garrond Cross’ mayor go bright red in the face when Harlea had told her that they’d been delayed due to hunting wolves and a brawl was almost worth having her rant at them afterwards.
Harlea had taken her anger in step, unwrapping his bandage to show her the bite mark and laughing at her reaction.
Wrapped around his arm was a new bandage as well. A blessing from one of the volunteers, Beatrice who had some training as a physician.
“Did Beatrice have any luck with the bite?” Fiona enquired as she shifted over to make space for him.
“Oh yeah,” Harlea looked down at his arm and carefully lowered himself to sit down, “she said it was bad but that she cleared the wound out and mended what she could. I think it’ll be fine until Ol’Haran.”
Fiona was far more dubious. Harlea was convinced it wasn’t even going to leave a scar once his physician was done with their mending.
Fiona refused to coddle the man. He was a good deal younger than Fiona but plenty old enough to not be so cavalier about his skin and health. He looked a good deal older than he should have and he had a habit of trying to rush to his own grave. He still had the physique of a younger man and an impressive size and shape to his muscles that inspired most people when they saw him but Fiona saw the ravages of time that most everyone else preferred to overlook.
The scars made him heroic and the constant bruises and bandages were the perfect accessories to supplement the visage of Captain of the Red Damnables. That and the variety of red clothes he’d bought when they’d returned to Ol’Haran.
Fiona could see why Os had chosen him as her successor. Fiona expected Os would’ve chosen him even if all of the others in the crew had survived the war. Even if Os had made home, Fiona was sure she would’ve retired and given him the mantle.
How Fiona would have preferred history had transpired that way. Fiona picked up her coffee and drained half of the cup. She’d stay with the crew until Harlea rebuilt the Red Damnables, she owed them that much at least.
“Midday is good. Gives us time to warm up and catch them off guard outside.” Harlea picked up a rock from between them, “And gives the kid time to get in position.”
Fiona said nothing but offered her coffee to him.
Harlea took her up on the offer, took a sip and then hacked and coughed as the coffee hit his tongue. “Nine hells and the afterlife, woman. How bitter is your coffee?”
He always acted surprised. Every time, he would try the coffee with an unfathomable optimism that her coffee would be to his liking some day. Then, he would spit it out and whinge and Fiona would laugh.
“I wouldn’t necessarily say I drink it for the flavour.” Fiona responded light heartedly as she offered her hand to take it back.
Harlea passed her the drink with a shake of his head, “What’s your thoughts on the extras?”
She let out a long drawn out sigh. The extras.
She’d been thinking about them since their planning meeting. She’d been trying to sort out how she felt as she came to the ledge and her mind chewed constantly on her thoughts for the upcoming contract despite her trying to just enjoy her morning for even half an hour.
The fact they’d got three people to come all the way up to camp was unbelievable, really. Every contract from a smaller village offered to send volunteers. Every time, they would say that anyone with a good sword arm and rations could join so long as they understood the risks. Harlea would tell everyone it was a common courtesy in the contract game.
Maybe once in a blue moon, they would get one fool who would try to join. Normally, it was a vengeful family member looking to even the score or some greedy villager eager to claim a cut of the loot from a monster’s lair.
In almost every case, the volunteers were complete liabilities for Fiona and the crew. It was staggering in Fiona’s opinion that playing babysitter was still a legitimate part of being an adventuring crew. She’d objected to the whole charade on principle when she’d first learnt about the call for volunteers but, like back on her first contract and up to that very morning, it wasn’t her call.
Fiona stroked her chin theatrically. Fiona could feel Harlea fidget with impatience. A small part of Fiona was pleased to see him squirm a little and hopeful that he was uncomfortable due to the fact that he’d had a hand in ruining her morning coffee with his musings.
Fiona finally responded offhandedly, “They seem decent. Good that two of them have a bit of experience at least.”
“The boy is interesting.” Harlea added jarringly. Fiona looked up at him but Harlea refused to catch her eye.
Of course, Harlea liked the kid. Their third volunteer had swaggered into camp like he was Long Gone Long John. And, of course, Harlea had fallen for his youthful bravado. Hook, line, and sinker. Harlea decided to run with the idiot child’s idea and ignored how outrageously dangerous his theory was almost as soon as the kid suggested it.
Fiona reminded herself of the Crewmate’s Oath. She’d made the oath when she’d joined the Red Damnables many years ago and it binded her even so many years after. She’d made the oath to Captain Osexi when Fiona was greener than spring wood and the Red Damnables were a motley crew of more than twenty. So many years later, and with her best friend taking the captain’s role, she didn’t realise everything would be quite so different.
“So, you want to demolish half the mountainside then?” Fiona prompted hotly. Better to get the conversation over and done with.
“A small section of it.” Harlea clarified defensively, “With a controlled blast that we’ll be far from when it happens."
“We will but what about the kid?” Fiona asked, “I wouldn’t say he’s going to be a safe distance.”
“The kid seems confident,” Harlea replied quickly.
“He is nothing if not confident,” Fiona fumed. She had never seen such unjustified confidence as the boy.
Harlea took a big breath out and a small cloud of freezing cold mist spread out in front of him.
“I have no better plan, Fiona. This plan might work and risks only the kid’s life,” Harlea admitted, “A risk that he said he understands.”
Fiona opened her mouth and then closed it. He had her on two accounts. The kid had practically begged to be the one to set the explosives on the cliffside and neither she nor he had any better idea for how to get into the compound.
Nevertheless, not pushing back on the kid’s plan left a bad taste in her mouth. The idea of strapping up a whole mess of explosive bijous to some volunteer just hitting puberty was ludicrous to her. Especially because one wrong move and he was plummeting the whole way to the compound’s ledge and probably exploding on impact.
“I don’t love it, Harlea. If he slips, there’s nothing but the ground waiting for him.” Fiona refused to willingly accept the plan, even if he was going to run with it. Not without some thought on how to make it even marginally less insane.
Harlea grinned his insufferable, infamous grin, “Well then, we get a rope,” he began and move his hands across the cliffline above the compound, “We get a rope and we tie it to that tree up top and then maybe like his waist or loop it over his shoulder. Then, if he slips, he is gently caught by the rope’s tender embrace.”
Fiona rolled her eyes but she couldn’t believe the idea of a rope hadn’t come up in the planning, “His waist.”
“He seems like a capable kid. You notice his poker?” Harlea asked casually.
His sword. It was of suspiciously good quality, even at a quick glance. On his waist sat a House sword, probably worth a good deal to those who knew its make. Fiona cleared her throat, “I noticed the pommel, did you catch what House it’s from?”
“Nohsea.” Harlea said innocuously.
“Mmmm.” Fiona said nothing but her mind whirred.
House Nohsea was from the far north west. A world away from the little mining town they found themselves in.
The fact that the boy had the sword could really mean anything, Fiona supposed. Anything with the caveat of one truth that Fiona knew beyond a shadow of a doubt. If he were spotted by a House official with the sword on his side, he’d be whipped up and down a post until he forgot how to count.
Fiona pushed the idea away and refused to worry about it. He lived in the back end of nowhere. And if he was dumb enough to go parade the sword around town then he would get what was coming to him.
Fiona paused and tilted her head. A new thought had popped into her brain and it posed a question and demanded satisfaction. She waited a moment to see if she could magic up an answer before she posed the question to Harlea.
“Harlea,” she began when nothing came to her, “What is the kid’s name?”
“Huh.” Harlea looked back at her blankly. “Now isn’t that a good question.”
“The girl that came with them is Beatrice. Definitely,” Fiona began, trying to force her brain to work on only half a coffee’s worth of caffeine, “And the old man is Terry, I believe.” she said with more certainty than she felt.
Fiona waited for Harlea. She’d given two names; it seemed only fair he gave one.
“Elrin.” Harlea stated somewhat uncertainly.
“Elrin,” Fiona repeated, it didn’t feel like it was a name. It felt like it was almost a name, a poorly made replica of a name.
Harlea looked out over the cliffside deep in thought and shuffled where he sat.
“Elrin, Elwin, Ellen, Alison, Allion, Alwin, Allen,” Fiona went through the list to see if any felt familiar. It was tough to know.
“Regardless, what do we do with Beatrice and Terry when we get to the mines?” Harlea asked, pushing on with the conversation he’d clearly scripted in his head.
Fiona didn’t mind. The sun was starting to melt the morning frost and her coffee was quickly becoming lukewarm.
“Tell Terry to hold the line with Elayne and have Beatrice stay with me.” Fiona posited, “I’d rather have the girl close to me when it starts. Just in case.”
Beatrice looked a lot like Fiona’s cousin with her shaved head. She wore the loose southern clothes but even the piercings in her ears were similar to the ones her cousin had had when she was younger.
“Oh, and no bow for the girl. Better chance she decorates your back than hits one of the gnolls down in the mines.” Fiona added.
“Eesh. Noted.” Harlea replied and launched the stone in his hand out over the edge of the cliff.
Fiona watched it sail through the air until it disappeared in the vast empty space below her. Since Harlea had taken command, he had come to talk to her about contracts like this. After a bit of back and forth, he would bring up anything on his mind and they’d discuss or bicker or laugh, depending on what challenges he brought with him.
She was happy to share her thoughts, so long as what they’d said was kept between the two of them.
Fiona looked out over the mountains again and waited for Harlea to process. They’d been in these mountains many times over the years; so often, in fact, that Fiona was quite sure they’d sat on this very cliff edge a half a decade or so ago. Tensions between Karitia and Weidenland were never quiet, so contracts had them come down here frequently but Fiona could swore she had seen the exact landscape below before. The same mine and the same never-ending forest spreading out before her.
Despite the coffee, a wave of weariness hit Fiona unexpectedly. Her shitty sleep and all the hiking was starting to add up, she supposed. She closed her eyes and tried to will her body to stop ageing quite so fast.
“Adventuring is a life that hangs on every flip of the coin.” She could hear Harlea’s voice call to her from far away.
They were originally Os’s words. Another of Os’ favourite catch phrases from when she adventured and another of the phrases that had been burned into Fiona’s brain.
She and Harlea had both grown up with Os being a permanent feature in their lives in Ol’Haran. She was the leader of the Red Damnables when Fiona had joined them and she had practically raised Harlea from his early teens.
Since she’d passed, Harlea hadn’t wanted to talk much about her nor reminisce about the old days. Not that avoiding the topic had bothered Fiona either.
Silence stretched out between them before it floated out to join the quiet of the mountains around them. Somewhere far below, the rock he’d thrown must have hit the ground and shattered into a thousand pieces. Somewhere far below and out of sight.
Fiona passed her coffee to Harlea, carefully turned and pushed herself onto her feet before she collected her coffee back off him.
It was quite common for Harlea to need some alone time on days like this. Fiona rarely stayed for long during their morning discussions. Every morning, the camp needed packing, some gear needed mending, or someone in the crew needed to be scolded, probably Alrin on this particular morning.
Fiona began to move back off the ledge and towards the camp before she stopped herself. Harlea was still sitting on the edge and Fiona tried her best to be understanding as she gave him her reminder,“We’ll need to hire more people when we get back, Harlea. Four of us isn’t enough for contracts like this.”
It needed to be said but it brought her no pleasure.
“Yeah, yeah, we will.” Harlea responded distantly.
